Bruce never came back that night.

By morning, sunlight hit Suri's face, and noise echoed from the hallway.

She cracked the door. The maid was guiding workers toward the guest room.

"Hustle up! Plans are already set. The nursery needs to be done, like, yesterday. Mr. Jerkinson's son's almost here—we can't have paint fumes around the baby!"

Suri walked to the upstairs railing.

Down below, the maid was hauling in baby stuff—crib, stroller, formula, diapers. The whole room was getting swallowed.

Julie frowned. "Bruce, the baby's not even here yet. You bought all this? Isn't Suri gonna feel awful?"

Bruce waved it off. "The baby's what matters now. Forget everything else." He tugged her toward the table. "These are from my parents. Go ahead, open 'em."

She popped the lid. Diamonds, gold, sparkly stuff piled up like treasure.

"Oh my God, this is insane." She snapped the box shut. "I can't take this. Give it to Suri."

"She doesn't need it. It's for you. And the baby. Keep it."

Bruce slid a ring onto her finger. "I can't give you a wedding. Or the Jerkinson name. Just... don't hate me."

"Hate you? I get you and the baby. That's more than enough."

They clung to each other like it was the end of the world.

Suri dropped her gaze, turned back inside, and grabbed the divorce papers.

She flipped to the last page, pen in hand, and headed downstairs.

"Bruce, I need your signature."

The two of them jumped apart.

Bruce scrambled for words. "Suri, Julie wasn't feeling well, so I—"

She smiled, cool and easy. "I get it. Pregnancy's tough. You were just being sweet."

She held out the pen. "Sign this."

"What is it?" He started flipping through.

Julie tugged his arm. "Didn't you promise to take me baby shopping?"

"Right, let's go." Bruce glanced down, scrawled his name, barely looking. "Suri, if you need something, just buy it. No need for my signature."

Suri locked eyes with Julie.

Yeah—Julie knew exactly what he'd signed. She'd timed it just right.

Suri looked at the fresh signature and let out a quiet smile. That made it easy.

She slid off the emerald ring.

"Julie, this is yours now."

Bruce frowned. "Isn't that the ring my mom gave you? It's a Jerkinson heirloom—our wedding ring. You can't just hand it off."

"Your mom said it keeps people safe. Jade wards off bad luck, right? Julie's pregnant. She needs it more."

Suri slipped it onto Julie's finger. "Wishing you a safe delivery. And wishing you..."

'A happy little family.'

She didn't say it out loud.

Bruce looked weirdly touched. "Suri, thank you. After the baby's born, I'll make sure she gives it back."

She gave a polite smile. "Let's talk then."

"I'm taking Julie shopping for baby stuff. I'll be back for dinner. Oh, and Suri—the doc says she's a little anemic. I remember your creamy chicken soup's a lifesaver. Mind making some?"

Tears stung her eyes. "And if I say no?"

Bruce paused. "Would it help if I said please?"

"If this is the last thing you ever ask of me..."

"Doesn't matter. I'm asking. For the baby."

Before Suri could respond, he was gone—with Julie.

After they left, Suri drove straight to the law firm.

Mr. Specter, her lawyer, greeted her with his usual calm. "Ms. Somerset, I'll file it today. In about a month, you and Mr. Jerkinson can swing by for the divorce decree."

For the first time in forever, something in her chest eased.

On the way back, she swung by the farmer's market.

It was his final ask—she'd give him that.

She picked out the best chicken, headed home, and started prepping dinner.

She'd cooked more meals than she could count.

Bruce was always picky. The only food he actually liked? The stuff she made.

When they first got married, she'd loved cooking for him every day.

Then one day, he told her to stop—said he didn't want her getting worn out.

She never thought the next time he'd ask her to cook, it'd be for someone else.

The soup simmered for almost two hours. Suri brought it to the table just as Bruce walked in with Julie.

"Smells amazing, Suri. You've worked hard."

Julie floated over, and right away, Suri clocked the diamond necklace. Brand new. Limited edition.

"Nice necklace," she said, her tone light.

Julie pretended to take it off, all theatrical. "Saw it while we were shopping. Bruce bought it for me. You like it, Suri? I'll totally give it to you."

Bruce stepped in. "Don't. I bought it for you—it's yours."

He turned to Suri. "I got you something too."

He handed her a wrapped box—fancy ribbon, clean fold, but at the bottom, small print: 'Free Gift.'

Suri felt her heart crack wide open.

"Thanks. Let's eat." She forced a smile, took the box, and ladled soup into Julie's bowl.

Julie took a sip, then gagged hard.

"Ugh, it smells awful!" She covered her mouth. "This is disgusting. If you didn't want to cook, you could've just said so! I'm gonna throw up—ugh—"

"Get it out of here, now!" Bruce barked, waving the maid over to take the soup away.

As the maid reached for the pot, Bruce waved her off—too fast. The scalding pot tipped, splashing Suri's bare arm.

"Ah!" she gasped, flinching from the burn.

The maid jumped. "Mrs. Jerkinson, are you okay?"

"Suri, what happened?" Bruce turned, looking shaken.

But then—Julie grabbed her stomach. "Ah! Bruce, it hurts—my stomach! Am I going into labor?"

Bruce snapped. "Suri, look what you've done! If something happens to the baby, I'll never forgive you!"

He didn't wait. He scooped Julie up and bolted. "Driver! Start the car—we're going to the hospital!"

Suri stood frozen, staring at the burn on her arm.

It throbbed like a warning flare, torching whatever hope she had left.

"What's wrong with Mr. Jerkinson? You're hurt and he just bailed without even checking on you," the maid muttered, grabbing the first aid kit. "He wasn't always like this. People say men change... guess it's true.

"You've done everything for him. Just 'cause you can't have kids—"

She cut herself off.

Suri stared at the mess on the floor and let out a low, bitter laugh.

"This was the last meal I'll ever cook for you, Bruce Jerkinson."

Suri finally crashed at dawn after hours of tossing and turning.

Didn't last.

Bruce yanked her up, his face tight.

"You actually slept?"

He dragged her out of bed. Pain flared down her burned arm.

She lay on the floor, pale light spilling over her as she looked up at him. "What are you even doing?"

"What am I doing? Why'd you put cinnamon in the cream soup? You know it's got cinnamaldehyde—causes uterine contractions! Julie could've miscarried!"

"What?"

Suri blinked, stunned.

"You're saying I did that on purpose? Just to make her lose the baby? Seriously, Bruce? Why would I do that?"

"Because you hate how well I treat her! Suri, you were the only woman I ever cared about." He was shaking, furious. "I brought Julie here 'cause she's pregnant and alone.

"If you had a problem, you should've just said it! Why go this low?

"I'm done with the excuses. Is Julie right? You're bitter 'cause you can't have kids, so you wanted her to lose hers?"

Suri stayed on the floor. "You don't believe me."

"You messed up and won't even own it," he said, towering over her. "We're going to the hospital. You're apologizing to Julie."

"And if I don't?" Her eyes flamed.

"You're going. I've spoiled you long enough—look what that's done. Time you owned up to what you did."

Bruce hauled her to the hospital.

The second they walked in, he dropped her arm and went straight to Julie's side. His tone flipped. "You still hurting?"

"It's better now. Bruce, when you left... I was so scared. I thought I might lose the baby—and you weren't here."

"Come on, silly girl. I'd never leave. Suri's here to apologize."

Suri stepped up, locking eyes with her. "Julie, did you tell Bruce I added cinnamon to the soup?"

Julie played innocent, but Suri wasn't buying it. She knew exactly who Julie was.

She hadn't added a thing to that soup. Only one way this made sense—Julie did it herself and pinned it on her.

Of course. Anyone who snagged Bruce like that was never gonna play clean.

"It's okay, Suri," Julie said, all sweet and fake. "I know you didn't mean it. Just... be more careful next time.

"Bruce worries about me, that's all. Don't be mad. But maybe you shouldn't cook anymore. We don't want any more... accidents.

"I just want the baby to be safe."

Bruce's chest tightened.

He looked at Suri. Long pause. Then, "Tomorrow, you're moving to the complex next door. I've got a place there. You'll stay until Julie has the baby."

Her burn throbbed, sweat clinging to her skin. Suri's lips had gone pale—Bruce didn't even notice.

She pressed them together, steady. "Fine. I'll move out. You two could use the space."

The flat look in her eyes made him hesitate. "That's not what I meant. It's just two months, Suri. You get that, right?"

"I get it." She smiled. She was leaving anyway.

"Good. To show Julie you're sorry, get her a gift for tomorrow when she's discharged."

Her face went bone white. "Sure. Got it."

She already knew what she'd give.